


Upright Citizens

by aristokratischer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, hopefully i will finish one day, i am bathed in sin and dissonance, ok they fucked are you happy, side GerIta, they're going to fuck eventually dont worry you perverts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aristokratischer/pseuds/aristokratischer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of the "practicing" between Roderich and Ludwig. Based loosely on the Buon San Valentino strip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His only question was blunt and simple. 

“Are you sure you love him, or do you love the idea of him being in love with you?” Roderich raised his coffee cup to his lips, violet eyes fixed on the German on the opposite sofa. The poor man came in with a book and a flurry of questions, rapid-fire one after the other. It turns out that Feliciano had given Ludwig red roses for Valentine’s Day. A cultural mistake, truly, if he wanted only to tell Ludwig that he appreciates their friendship. But Ludwig would have none of it. 

And so he sat there, opposite the Austrian, raving over all of this, and how he would reciprocate. Roderich’s words seemed to pierce the air, striking Ludwig’s heart. There was a heavy pause, Ludwig looking from Roderich, to the book in his hand, and back again. 

“Yes, I love him, Roderich.” He said, confidently. Roderich didn’t buy it, in his heart of hearts. He was too young to really understand what it was. The poor boy was barely over 100. When Roderich was his age, he’d have given anything to run off into the forests and play and never worry about matters of love, but perhaps they just didn’t raise countries like that anymore. 

Ludwig opened his book fervently, flipping through the pages for some sort of clue, before the book fell from his hands with a bloodcurdling scream. 

“He’s a man!” 

Roderich looked puzzled, to say the least. He’d married and bedded more than a few men in his long lifetime. 

“Yes. Is that an issue? Have you forgotten that?”

“Well, no, but—“

“But you’ve no experience.” Roderich met his eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Is that it?” Ludwig looked away, rather sheepishly, picking up the book from the floor and holding it close to his chest. “There’s no shame in that, you know. You’re still young.”

But Ludwig wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on Roderich, to the point where it made the Austrian squirm. “What?” He set his coffee down, folding his hands in his lap. 

“Roderich, you—” And a rough grab of his cravat as Ludwig leaned down. “You’re a man. I need practice.” Roderich nearly jumped out of his skin from the grabbing so roughly, so unexpectedly, that he was flushing pink. And then he registered the comment. Practice. 

He paused, trying to think for a moment as the intensity in Ludwig’s eyes drilled him through, waiting for some sort of response. He wanted to say no, that Ludwig would just have to learn with Feliciano and that be that, but a prickle of selfishness crept up his back. How long had it been since he’d last been kissed, been touched, by someone who knew him and still wanted to do that with him. And it helped that Ludwig was easy on the eyes, to say the very least of him. 

He licked his lips after a moment, before speaking. “Fine. But don’t you go leaving love bites on me, you understand—Mm!” Lips cut him off, lips and tongue and tooth. And immediately he pulled back, Ludwig frowning as he sat down beside Roderich. 

“What did I do wrong?” 

“Everything, would be a good place to start.” Roderich sighed and shook his head, before straddling the other’s lap. “Just let me lead, you take mental notes.” And lightly he snapped his teeth on the other’s lower lip before cradling his face in his hands, thumbs rolling circles along his cheeks as he led the other in easily. 

“Gentleness is key.” He whispered onto the other’s lips, Ludwig taking the opportunity to invade his mouth. Warm, that was what Roderich felt. Warm and the taste of dark chocolate, and maybe tobacco, on his lips. An odd combination, but strangely intoxicating all the same. 

His slender hands slowly dropped to Ludwig’s chest, seeming to make their home there for the time being, as the calloused hands of his partner ended up on his waist, riding his shirt up slightly, so Roderich could feel the warmth of his hands. 

Maybe they’d gotten carried away in all of this, Roderich having lost himself in taste and touch, creating a cloudy haze around his mind, to the point where Roderich’s slacks were tossed on the floor somewhere, the soft smacking of lips traded for heavy, wet pants between the two of them, and that calloused hand up his boxer shorts leg, much too close for comfort, Roderich trying to lead him on with a roll of his hips, and then-- 

Roderich pulled back, almost too abruptly. 

“Did I do something?” 

“I can’t believe you want to use me as practice. This vulgarity, I can hardly believe you at all, Ludwig.” 

“…But you took your pants off on your own.” Roderich glanced down, briefly at that comment. So it would seem, anyway. 

“Unlike you, Austrians are upright citizens.” He tried to save some sort of face, stammering for some sort of excuse. 

“This is what you call upright?” He had a point, but god forbid Roderich admit to that. With his pants off and thrown across the room, shirt half-opened, glasses askew and hair messy, and face flushed red, he was hardly the image of upright. 

“Shut up. You've had enough practice for today.” And so he slipped from his lap and back onto the sofa, crossing his legs and refusing to look at the other.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a few days since their first _incident._

And Roderich, poor Roderich, he was already hooked on the other. The taste of his lips, the sensation of his hands riding up his back, or inner thigh, those sounds he made. God, those alone were intoxicating to the Austrian. He could pretend to himself as much as he liked that in those moments, at the very least, he was Ludwig's. He'd say to himself that when Ludwig returned, asking for more practice, that was just a sign that he was coming around. He could say he loved that boy as much as he liked, Roderich knew between heavy gasps of breath and chest against chest that Ludwig had eyes for him, and only him. 

Right? 

And then came that creeping sensation of a sadness. What had he to offer? Words beaten in by old lovers told him only his body. Who would want the little whore who was passed round Europe from one marriage to the next, opening his legs for whomever would benefit him? Ludwig, probably not. And maybe that's why he thought to choose him for these sessions, because Roderich had a record of never saying no. Yes, he'd use these lessons to show Ludwig what he could offer. 

But he always stopped himself in their lessons, always before the other could take off the last of their clothes. When he felt that rough grab at his front, regardless of the shivers that shot down his spine, it came with a pang of guilt. _His innocence is hardly mine to take._ A pang of jealousy would run through him, and anger that he was being used and allowed himself to be used, that these same motions were intended for another entirely. 

And the both of them were getting frustrated, it seemed. 

As was the usual for the past few days, clothes were strewn all over the floor, and Roderich's policy of "no love bites" was broken time and time again, not that he minded very much anymore. They could be covered, and he could ogle them in the mirror, curse the German's name as he ran his fingers along the ones dangerously close to his jawline, where his shirts and cravats would not cover. And as was the usual, there was a warm firmness pressing against Roderich's bottom, driving him absolutely mad. Curse his selfishness, he wanted it for his own, and wanted to hear those moans over and over again, for his ears alone. 

And he pulled back, that familiar guilt creeping up on him as one of his hands rested on the other's stomach. And then, there were words that he'd never thought he'd hear from Ludwig. 

"Don't stop." 

Nearly all of Roderich stood on end. Had he finally captured the other? 

"What do you mean?" His voice was trembling, almost. Had he heard that properly? 

"I mean--I mean don't stop. I...you--please." He was stammering. Poor man, never having had the experience at all, and no words to put it in. Roderich clicked his tongue. Should he make him beg? No, he'd be merciful for the moment, as his eyes trailed up and down the other's flushed body. 

"Fine." He breathed. "But if you'd please remove your hands from my ass--" 

"Sorry--" 

"No, I just...I need to move." A teasingly chaste kiss was pressed to the other's lips as Ludwig's grip loosened, resting his hands on the other's upper thighs, eyes hazy and expectant. 

And there, the brunette slipped off of the other's lap, kneeling at his feet. 

"Take these off for me, won't you?" He asked, touching the rather impatient bulge at the front, earning an uncomfortable squirm from the German, with an unconscious twitch. He didn't need to be told twice, breathing a sigh of relief once the restrictive fabric had let him free. Damn it all, had he not craved Ludwig's body before, this certainly gave him something to fantasize over. 

"What?" Ludwig blinked, immediately flushing a darker red as he looked over himself. Was something wrong with him? "Is something wrong?" 

"Hardly." Roderich breathed, running a long finger along the underside. "Just...a bit bigger than I thought it was going to be. That's all." 

"That's not bad, is it?" He'd read enough books, people loved larger men. Roderich snorted and rested his head on the other's thigh for a moment. 

"Anyone who complains about a man like you is certainly not deserving of him." 

Ludwig squirmed a little in his place at that, not quite sure how to respond. Granted, he didn't know how to respond much at all to these sorts of things. Roderich was the experienced one. And soon he felt it, warm lips and a silk tongue engulfing his length. A soft sucking, just enough to keep him wanting more. His hands immediately found his way into chocolate hair, tangling rather roughly, earning a soft moan from the other's lips, sending teasing vibrations down his shaft. "Gottverdammt, Roderich." He wasn't sure how long he'd last, as this was ever so much better than the hand that he was used to. His own hand, to be precise. And his own hand didn't give him those sultry eyes that Roderich was giving, as if asking the other how he liked it, inviting the other to bow to his desires.

And no, he didn't last long at all. Once Roderich had taken all of him in, allowing him down his throat just slightly, that was his undoing. He came with a low groan, the smaller man at his feet almost greedily swallowing, making him shiver. Roderich pulled back, rolling the tip of his tongue against the slit once more, before sitting back on his heels and looking up to the other almost expectantly. Surely that would make him stay. Right? He pulled himself up back into his lap, kissing the other hungrily, Ludwig tasting himself on the other's lips. And were he not still hazy from the other's mouth, that combined with the sensual rolling of Roderich's hips against him would have gotten him hard all over again. 

"How was that?" Roderich breathed, continuing the rolling of his own hips if only to allow some sort of friction to ease his own arousal. Though it was hardly working. And almost too suddenly, with a rather unrefined squeak, he felt a calloused hand wrapping around his own length. Ludwig hadn't even bothered to get the other to take his underwear off, and Roderich was trying to free himself. "Don't make me come in my clothes, I'd need to wash them alone." He tutted, before his breath hitched as he felt the other's hand roughly stroking him. Immediately he buried his face in the other's neck, biting hard on his lips as he thrust weakly into the other's hand, trying to match the pace. 

"Gentle." He hissed as the other squeezed the base a bit too tightly, followed by muffled moans. Curse Ludwig for this, curse himself for being so loud in the bedroom. His body was waiting ever too long for this, for Ludwig's touch, and it didn't take much to bring him over the edge, his head tipping back as moans fell from his lips, spilling over himself and Ludwig. 

The two sat in silence for a moment, foreheads pressed together, gasps for air synchronized. Oh yes, Ludwig would say he was in love with Feliciano. But in moments like this, the look in those eyes told him something so much different. Ludwig was Roderich's, and his alone. And Roderich was hardly going to let him go.


End file.
